


The Daughters of Tytos Lannister

by Theo_Lannister



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, F/M, Female Protagonist, Murder, Not Canon Compliant, Pre - Robert's Rebellion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 04:11:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theo_Lannister/pseuds/Theo_Lannister
Summary: "It's easy to tell us apart," Abigael had always said, "Tyene is the dumb one, Kyrene is the dutiful one, I'm the pretty one, and Tya is the smart one," every time the three sisters had met a young lordling come to court them.





	The Daughters of Tytos Lannister

"It's easy to tell us apart," Abigael had always said, "Tyene is the dumb one, Kyrene is the dutiful one, I'm the pretty one, and Tya is the smart one," every time the three sisters had met a young lordling come to court them. Tyene would always rage and try to beat Gael, thus proving she was the dumb one, and Gael needed to do nothing to deserve the pretty title.

All of Casterly Rock knew that Gael was a bit of a slut. She was tall, for a woman, but was still under 5'10. But her hair stretched down past her hips, and always braided in strange, eastern styles. When it wasn't, it fell in lazy ringlets. Her plush lips had kissed more men in the Seven Kingdoms then most hedge knights ever met. But Gael was a Lannister of Casterly Rock, so she could get away with such, as long as she remembered to find a woods witch. And if her father asked too many questions, all Gael had to do was say "No" and her father would submit. Tyene, of course, was an idiot, just as Kyrene was dutiful. 

Her father was a pushover. Tya wasn't sure if he wanted Gerold to assume the Rock immediately or for her father to never die. He was an idiot and a pushover, and Tyarella loved him for it. Once, a year ago, her father had tried to betroth her to a Frey. That was an insult of itself to be wed to an up jumped tollman. It was even more so that it was to a  _ younger  _ son. Half the west had been in attendance when her betrothal was announced, and half the west had been in attendance when Tyarella, firstborn of Tytos Lannister, had stood up and said "No" to Walder Frey. Her father had never arranged a betrothal for Tya again. Unless she asked him to make one. 

All in all, though, her brother Gerold would be a better lord than her father. Truth be told, Tyarella would have been the best to rule the Rock, but she had a higher goal then the Rock.

* * *

"The War" was the only thing anyone in the Rock would talk about, although each of them had different reasons to talk. Gael had cried at the first supper, her Betrothed being sent to fight as a squire, and she was happy to collapse into the comforting arms of some Crakehall or Marbrand. Tya couldn't remember which was which, and she doubted that Gael could either. Tya was more excited, then anything else. With Gerold gone, then she had a chance to be in power, if not in name. However, her father was still in power. 

When that peasant slut slipped into her father's sheets, everything had been almost ruined. Tya always did what needed to be done, and that candlemaker's daughter was a threat. Until Tya slipped into her room with a pillow and held her down.

Her father mourned, and Tya had Kyrene keep Lord Tytos in the Sept for hours at a time for his mourning. It was rather droll, seeing her father trying to leave only for his daughter to pull him back down to his knees. During these day-long prayers, Tya could rule.

Lord Quellon was being rather dangerous, his fleet awkwardly edging around the West for no stated purpose. The West needed someone strong right now, and Gerold was halfway across the world. The death of Tytos' candle whore to save the west seemed to be a decent enough price. 

* * *

Tyarella would read a letter, scribble a response, commit the other letter to memory, then throw it in the fire to stop her father from reading the letter later. There were four of importance left, having already saving them for last. She had learned that habit earlier in life, to always save the most important letters for last. If it was important than she had to go deal with it and then she would never get to the other letters. So she left her brother's letter from Pirate Isle for last.

A letter from Lord Frey, which was thrown into the fire before she even popped open it. Another was for Tyene for Lord Crakehall, a man with a widow and no children. Tyarella jotted a reply, placed her father's seal and signature on the letter to seal it in place. Kyrene also got one or two marriage contracts, with only the one for Andar Royce being seriously considered, but even then she burned the letter. The Vale was fertile, but far away. A closer house would have been a better marriage, preferably a Riverlands house. Perhaps Hoster Tully, freshly widowed. And then a letter from her brother. He always had sloppy, tall handwriting, and he was known for writing small, shorter messages. "Princess needs Ladies. You're one of them."

"Fuck," she muttered, "I finally get power and then they make me a glorified slave."

* * *

Lady Rhaella seemed rather kind, but Tyarella could tell she was a jealous type. She was the heir to the Prince unless a great council was called. Tya didn't need to think hard about what she would do if she was in Rhaella's place. Cement her claim to the throne by wedding the current heir. If he dies, she has a claim as widow and heir, if not then she could rule by his side. But of course, she couldn't do that, because that was Tyarella's plan as well. She had cowed a greater lord than Aerys, a slight man with hair more white then silver gold. 

Rhaella was pretty, as was the dornish girl, but none of them could hold a candle to her. Taller, more robust, curvier and with long blonde curly hair, the small, slight Dornish girl was too weak, and Rhaella was frightened around her brother. All Tya had to do was stand in a room with Aerys, and he'd follow her around for days at a time. It was rather annoying, to be honest, but he seemed genuine and sweet. And if he wanted to do more... well, then it was another incentive for Aerys to wed her. That, and that her brother had knighted him. 

* * *

King Jaehaerys' coronation would go down as a famous party, with more debauchery then coronation had a right to have. The wine was flowing, as did the gold and favors, more akin to a great festival than a taking-of-the-throne. Her father and brother had been invited, as did her sisters. She saw her brother being pulled off by some pretty brown-haired woman with breasts bigger than melons while her father was chatting up some young widow. And Aerys...

Aerys had been sat next to her on the dais. He started the feast as courteous as possible, making jests when appropriate and smiles when not. But as the feast progressed, Tya found a hand on her lap. Then when she did not object, a hand to her breast. She looked to Aerys, his eyes a violet, seemingly flickering and manic in the firelight, his hand squeezing her breast in time with the drum beats. She knew that what she was about to do was illegal, and she could very well lose a hand. But she did it anyway. She slapped his hand away, then his face. 

The music was able to muffle both the sound of the slap and his shocked gasp. But then the fury came to his eyes. "Come with me, girl," he grabbed her wrist and began to pull. She was a strong girl, but he was a knight and was easily able to pull her up and away. Half a hundred people gave him sidelong gazes and looks of shock, but Aerys seemed not to notice. Tya did.

He had opened the door to his chambers, and near threw her in, her head bonking on the side of a chest. "Undress. Now," Aerys seemed to be amused, and monstrous. "Is that wise, my lord?"

"Your Grace!" he shouted, "I am the king's son! The King's heir! The future King!" Tyarella gave him a disappointed look, a look that could sour milk. And then she unlaced her dress, and then her bodice. Aerys did the same. He seemed awkward, confused and scared. Tyarella let him do what he wished while she crossed her arms with a look of profound disappointment, barely giving the effort to fake her orgasms that Gael had taught her. Aerys seemed to be satisfied, and he flopped on the bed.

* * *

Their wedding was shortly after before she could grow big with child. Though he seemed excited to wed a woman as beautiful as Tyarella whenever she looked at him his face dropped to one of sadness. He was a great fool of a man, but he did what he was told, so long as he didn't have wine.

Without wine, he was a shy, quiet man with little ambition who did what a more powerful man, or woman, told him. He was much like her father, in that regard. But with the wine, he was a vile, brutish man who loved to see others suffer. And she hated him for it. She had even thought of killing him once or maybe even gelding him, but it hadn't happened. He pulled her to his bedchambers near every night, and there was naught she could do. She had even considered finding a woods witch to give her moon tea, but she decided against it. 

When Aerys died, Tya meant to still rule. If not as the voice in a lovers ear, then as a queen mother. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was not fun to write. Sorry


End file.
